Bearings
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am sure many of you are wondering why my stories seem to thrive with bursts of updates and then languish with long periods of dryness. The reason for this is quite simple: I am in between my third and fourth (final) years of undergraduate coursework, so during the semesters from approximately late August to December and late January to May, I have very little time for creative writing. This is compounded by the fact that I have been working on preliminaries for my thesis for quite some time now, which I will be working extensively on in the coming year. I also will be applying to several PhD programs across the country, and then hopefully moving on to graduate school next fall. The demand upon my time has not only distanced my mind from the Potter Universe, but also made it incredibly difficult to keep up with my own stories (and their slightly skewed universes). However, having so little time to myself has made me appreciate what little creative writing I am able to do, so I would like to say here and now, and with some kind of finality, that my stories will never be abandoned, but they may also never be completed. Both Bearings and Growing Up Granger are extended works of creative fiction, with the former projected at 500,000 words and the latter at over one million words. Both stories have always seemed slightly over-ambitious to me, especially considering I may be working toward my PhD in literature for the next five or six years, but it is without fail you the reader who has kept me coming back to my stories and the Potter Universe. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that as long as Portkey and fanfiction.net exist, my stories will continue, in the hopes that someday they will be complete. Thank you for your patience and your enduring support over the past three years. And now, on with the show.
One day our generation
Is gonna rule the population
So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change
John Mayer
Waiting on the World to Change
Chapter Sixteen: Reality Check
Friday, November 8th, 2002; 5:25 am
Harry Potter had a lot on his mind. If the issues weighing on him were the mundane problems of every day life-such as sleeping through the alarm, running out of a necessary grocery, or needing petrol for the auto-then he most likely would have been much less stressed. But because Harry was not an ordinary human being, his problems were similarly less normal, and more along the lines of the impending general Wizarding election, further acclimation to the Gringotts Board of Directors, and the agonizingly slow process of reassimilating into magical Britain.
So who could blame Harry for feeling drawn somewhat thin as he entered the kitchen for breakfast? Today was the big day, as far as his political career was concerned; wizards and witches all across the kingdom would vote for their new Minister and Vice Minister as the day wore on, assuming of course they could cast a corporeal Patronus. He ran a frustrated hand through his thick, dark locks as he considered that issue yet again, and realized there was absolutely nothing he could do until after he was (hopefully) elected. The bias for the magically capable-and therefore the best educated and most likely the wealthiest-was astounding, but it was only one of the countless problems facing Arthur and Harry if they were elected.
As the campaign had intensified through the summer months and into autumn, it had become more and more readily apparent to Harry, who had already known generally that Wizarding Britain was very backward, that he and Arthur had a huge task in front of them. Their ultimate goal, as far as they had discussed, was complete equality for all magical sentient beings, or as complete as could be realistically obtained. Obviously the Merpeople, who were limited to water, wouldn't be able to set up shop in Diagon Alley. Really, though, it was about a complete and utter paradigm shift in the overall magical consciousness; it was staggering to think about, especially in such explicit terms, but Harry's desire to even run with Arthur had been predicated upon egalitarianism.
Today he would face the general public, most of which had seemed to be clamoring for him and Arthur in the previous months, and hopefully assume the secondary position of power in Britain's magical government. To top it all off, he was only twenty-two, and had been out of college for a mere six months. The doubts that lingered just below the surface of his consciousness were given voice by the quiet opposition that had also grown; he honestly did not think the opponents had enough support to beat Arthur and him, but the unsettled feeling that all things would not turn out well would not leave him. There was nothing specific to make him feel this way-all political battles were vicious and uncompromising-but as he sat at the table with his small breakfast, he wondered what exactly would go wrong.
Harry wasn't usually given to this kind of direct pessimism, but the recent scare with the Dementor and some latent worries over the safety of his friends, especially the relatively defenseless John and Erin, had forced him to view things through a more realistic lens. His life had been rather idyllic for a month or two at the start of the summer, but nothing that good ever lasted. And even if nothing overtly bad happened, he knew his running and the presence of two Muggles working within the magical world had sowed certain seeds of resentment in the more conservative sectors of the public.
He preferred to think of the far right as "backwards" because of how close-minded most of them seemed to be, but he had an idea that perhaps lumping them all into that category was not fair to them. Sure, many of the ultra-conservatives hated the idea of equality and wanted to preserve the old ways, but only a select few were as extreme as the Pureblood bigotry Riddle and his followers had spouted off. It was the fact that those were the most vociferous of the more conservative-minded witches and wizards that had made the campaign so trying toward the end, because they rallied against Arthur and Harry. Harry had been called naive and inexperienced, and Arthur had been called Muggle-loving and crazy. Never mind that Harry had put an end to Riddle's twenty-five year reign of terror, and that Arthur had worked for the Ministry quietly and efficiently for about three decades.
Honestly, Harry's pessimism came more from weariness at this point; he just wanted the campaign to be over with and the election to happen, so he could end this ceaseless wondering over whether or not he would become the new Vice Minister. This was because on top of the push for election, he had also been as active as possible at Gringotts, working closely with Ragnok, Griphook, and the board members to facilitate the transition of the Wizarding world from a classist, racist, and sexist society toward something much more equitable. The financial sector that Gringotts represented was one of the fundamental pillars of any society, so knowing he was a part of the internal power structure that could implement ground-breaking changes helped him to accept his workload, but it did not lessen his weariness.
He could remember only one other time when he had felt this fatigued, and that was directly after he had finally watched Riddle plummet from the Astronomy tower; now was different than then, of course, because before disillusionment and a feeling of helplessness had filled him, but it did not comfort him to have only that one other time with which to compare his current feelings.
A small smile graced his face has he considered the other big difference between then and now, which of course was Hermione and their stunning relationship. Occasionally Harry would reflect on all that had happened in his life since the middle of May, and the most unbelievable thing to him, even with all of this election business and John and Erin living and working in the magical world, was how well and easily things had gone with Hermione.
What they had with each other was absolutely exquisite, and there was really no other way to put it, in his mind. They had developed an incredibly strong and fruitful friendship when they were young, and somehow it had changed into this magnificent and fulfilling relationship. At times he wondered how someone so perfect could want to be with him, but a tiny voice in the back of his head knew she wondered the same thing about him sometimes-not because he was perfect, of course, but really because they'd had so few problems since coming back together at Stanford. Domestic bliss was a relatively new concept to Harry, but he had come to depend on it as a fountain of strength during the last few months.
Another voice in the back of his head would sometimes ask him if he planned to make it official with Hermione, and he had always told it that something like that would have to wait until after the election was decided. And now that the day of judgment was upon them all, it looked like his reason for delaying was coming to an end. His heartbeat increased a bit as he considered what actually asking Hermione the big question would be like: he had no problem with giving speeches in front of hundreds of people, but the prospect of asking Hermione to marry him made him nervous. He supposed it was something all men felt before they proposed-will she say yes?-but that did not make it any easier. He loved Hermione and longed to spend the rest of his hopefully long life with her. Taking that next big step would require courage, though.
Soft noises near the kitchen alerted Harry to the presence of another person, and sure enough, it was Hermione who ambled through the door. She was tying her hair into a loose ponytail and smiled at him as she passed on her way to the refrigerator.
"Morning, Harry," she said.
"Good morning, Hermione," he answered, watching her bend slightly at the waist to look for something.
"You sleep well, love?" she asked, straightening up and bringing the orange juice to the counter. He thought she might have caught him looking at her bum, because there was amusement sparkling in her eyes. She took a glass down from one of the cupboards and poured herself some of the juice.
"Just ok, really," Harry answered. He sighed. "Tonight will be better because I will finally know either way."
Hermione nodded and sat across from him, wrapping one of his hands with both of hers. They were warm and soft, and he squeezed them gently. "I think I already know what the outcome will be," she said, with another soft smile.
"Oh?"
She nodded. "Of course, Vice Minister Potter."
He couldn't help but smile. "Let's not get too hasty, Director Granger. We can't know that for sure yet."
"Oh nonsense," she said, releasing his hand and turning in her chair. She grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter behind her. "Everyone at the Ministry knows you and Arthur are a lock, so enough with this skepticism!"
Harry shrugged. "If you say so," he said, and the two of them ate in silence for several minutes. Harry appreciated Hermione's support, and knew that she wasn't just building him up, but the lingering doubt would not recede.
"When are you voting?" Hermione asked, after a time. She had finished her banana and continued to sip the orange juice.
"Arthur and I are voting sometime after lunch in the atrium. It's a publicity stunt, mostly, but it should at least push some of the fencers in our direction." Harry had begun calling the undecided witches and wizards `fencers' because of their position on the fence regarding the election.
"Maybe I'll come and watch," she said, tossing back the last drops of juice. "I'll probably vote sometime during lunch-it's actually going to be a rather busy day," Hermione said, standing and moving toward the sink. Harry joined her with his dirty glass and bowl, and they rinsed the dishes side by side.
"Yeah? What's on your plate for the day?" he wondered. He supposed if he was elected he would become much more familiar with Hermione's department, but for now he had to rely mostly on what she told him about her job. It was easy to forget that she was the Director of one of the busiest departments at the Ministry, because she handled everything so well. She'd cut her hours down to around forty-five per week, from the sixty or more she had been working before getting the promotion, and as far as Harry could tell was balancing work and life much better because of that.
"I have an interdepartmental meeting first thing, with all the other directors," she started. "Mostly we just update each other on the status of our various departments, but it can be long and tedious if there are any big events planned."
"Like an election?"
She looked at him. "Yeah, like that. Anyways, after that I have to finalize some paperwork dealing with some Knightbus policy changes, which will hopefully fix the most recent Muggle sightings of a `giant, three-story purple bus.' I also review the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts register daily, or as close to daily as possible, to make sure that nothing big has slipped our notice. That takes some time, and can be especially stressful if something on the list stands out-"
"Like what?" Harry wondered, truthfully curious.
"Well, last week there were several cars that had been modified to literally eat their owners and then spit out the remains through the exhaust. I had to deal with the Muggle authorities, who were quite understandably bewildered at what had happened; I also had to straighten out the Motor Vehicle Authority, because they thought they had the jurisdiction to impound the cars. Because they were magical evidence, which I could only explain to one person because he was a squib, I had to confiscate the cars and impound them in the Ministry collection… It's a long and fairly boring story, but basically I try to smooth things out with the Muggle power structure as much as I can. Magical people are constantly taking advantage of Muggles-"
"You mean like Harry did when he Apparated us over here?" John's voice cut across the room. Harry and Hermione turned to see their housemates entering the kitchen, and smiled at them.
"I didn't take advantage of you," Harry disagreed.
"Then what would you call it?" Erin asked, sitting at the table with John. "Implied consent?"
Harry laughed, and so did Hermione. "No, no," he said, finishing with the dishes and turning toward them. "I was thinking something more along the lines of plausible deniability." John and Erin started to laugh also. The morning had suddenly turned merry.
"You're certainly in a good mood this morning, Potter," John commented, after he stopped laughing. Erin nodded in agreement. "You're not nervous at all?"
Harry shook his head. "On the contrary," he said. "I'm quite anxious. These ruddy elections just need to be over with."
"Well you hide it well," Erin said.
"Thanks," Harry commented, rolling his eyes at her. "But if you two will excuse us, Hermione and I need to shower and change for the day ahead of us." He took Hermione's hand, glanced at her for agreement, and prepared to Disapparate from the kitchen.
"How long do you think they'll be in the shower?" John asked, loud enough for Harry and Hermione to clearly hear. Harry paused, just before he Disapparated, and both he and Hermione looked at John and Erin.
"I don't know," Erin said, looking at them and grinning. "It depends on how active they were last night."
"Wouldn't you like to know," Hermione said, though there was clearly humor in her voice.
John just raised his eyebrows at them. "Are you two or are you not both magical? You should seriously consider soundproofing the master suite every now and then…"
Harry grinned cheekily at them. "We could say the same about you two, but alas, you're Muggles. We've soundproofed our room because of you two before," he said, winking, and then Disapparating soundlessly into the master bathroom with Hermione.
"Sadly, though, I have to get going soon," Harry said, turning to Hermione with a pout. She patted him on the shoulder.
"It's ok. There's always tonight, Vice Minister, when we will most certainly be celebrating your win."
He chuckled slightly for a moment, watching Hermione casually strip for the shower. "For both our sakes, I hope so."
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Harry and Arthur were finally able to Disapparate from the Ministry at 6:30 that night. They appeared behind the Burrow, because before Hermione had left for the day she told them Molly was getting everyone together to wait for the results of the election.
It had been a whirlwind of a day, filled with public appearances, rallies with supporters, and now the agony of waiting. Harry had watched with mounting frustration as many witches and wizards attempted to vote, only to eventually give up on casting the Patronus. The unofficial tally, last he'd heard, was eighteen percent; that is, less than twenty percent of voting age magical people in Britain successfully voted. That number also accounted for those who simply never showed up to vote. Harry thought it was quite ridiculous.
"Now we wait," Arthur said, turning toward Harry and slipping his arm around the younger man's shoulders. Harry nodded and they walked in amiable silence toward the house. It truthfully shouldn't be very long until they knew one way or the other-a few hours at the most-but this was the culmination of several months of work, and a lifetime of disenfranchisement.
"What do you think? Honestly?" Harry asked, as they approached the rear door. They passed through, into the kitchen, and could hear people gathered in the living room beyond.
Arthur sighed heavily-an ominous sound, for sure-and turned toward Harry. The Weasley patriarch looked extraordinarily tired, but Harry also saw something like hope and vigor in his wizened eyes. It was a comforting sight.
"I think it will be close," Arthur answered, seeming to consider his words carefully. "My gut tells me that we did it, that we won, but instincts aren't always correct."
"True," Harry said, though he could think of few times when his instincts had led him astray. It was too bad they were deathly quiet at the moment, because they might have eased his nerves.
"This is a pivotal moment, though," Arthur continued, sitting at the table, and motioning for Harry to do the same.
"You mean for us?" Harry wondered, sitting across from Arthur.
"Well-yes, but for our world too," Arthur said. "Remember when I asked you to run with me I told you that Albus had been worried in the years before he died about the Wizarding world stagnating and eventually drying up?"
Harry nodded; he remembered the gist of what Arthur had said that evening at the Burrow several months ago. That had been the same night they had played that wonderful Quidditch game, when both Bill and Charlie had been present.
"If we lose this election, Harry, I think we might find ourselves in that situation soon enough. There's no forward movement anymore; no new ideas or new relations. All the magical populations have been becoming more and more isolated from each for the past several decades, and we've all become so complacent as a society that the rut will continue to deepen."
Harry just looked at him. "You don't paint a pretty picture." Even Harry's fairly negative view of the magical society wasn't quite as bleak.
Arthur shrugged. "But it's the truth, and I think you know it. The conservatives clamoring for things to remain unchanged ad infinitum don't realize that change is healthy; progress doesn't necessarily mean bigger and better, because we all know that history and time are essentially cyclic, but if we can't learn from the past to affect the future, then what are we even doing?"
"If we don't win, where do you see us in twenty years?" Harry asked, referring to magical Britain in general.
"The government will have split into many smaller, rivaling factions, each vying for some kind of power; the goblins will have abandoned us and will most likely take our economy with them; and institutions such as Hogwarts will most likely close down indefinitely."
Harry's eyebrows crept up his forehead. "So basically, if the Wizarding world doesn't wake up soon, it will do a better job ruining itself than Voldemort would ever have."
"Something like that."
"Then we better win," Harry said, standing up and turning toward the living room. Arthur joined him.
"Yes, we better," the older man agreed, and then they moved into the next room. Many familiar faces greeted them, with all of their close friends and family-except Bill, Fleur, and Charlie-in attendance for the results. Harry's eyes immediately sought Hermione, and she paused in her conversation with Ginny and Luna to meet his eyes for a moment and smile. He returned the gesture, and then was herded by Fred and George toward Ron and Neville. Arthur drifted off to chat with Molly and Minerva.
"Ah, the prodigal son has finally returned," Fred said, when the five men stood together. "And how are the prospects looking?"
"Your father seems to think it will be close, but that we will win in the end; I, on the other hand, have absolutely no idea. We'll just have to wait and see how the chips fall."
"Harry bloody Vice Minister Potter," Ron said, sounding slightly awed for a moment. Harry gave him a skeptical look, and then Ron shook his head a bit. "Although, what's one more title when you already have twenty or so?"
"Ha, ha, Ron…" Harry said, though he smiling.
"He hasn't earned it quite yet," George cut in. "But I will wager any one of you 50 galleons that before the night is over, he will have." The twin looked around for several seconds, waggling his eyebrows.
"That's a fool's bet," Neville said. "We all know Harry and Arthur will win."
"We do?" Harry asked.
"Oh come off it," Ron scoffed. "Of course you're going to win, Harry-you never lose."
For some reason Harry thought of what he had actually lost, namely his parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore, but he didn't say that out loud. He didn't want to ruin the generally jovial mood of the evening.
"And I do not think he will lose tonight," a new, rather feminine voice said. The men looked up to see Ginny, Luna, and Hermione moving to join them. The parted slightly so the three women could slide into their natural positions next to Neville, Ron, and Harry. Luna had been the one to assert Harry's victory.
"Merlin, all this boring chatter about winning and losing! There's nothing anyone can do about the results now, so why don't we just relax for a little while and, when the time comes, the broadcast over the Wireless will tell us for sure," Ginny said, glancing around at them all.
Harry nodded. "Perhaps some of the most sensible advice you have ever given, Ginny," Harry said. Constantly discussing whether or not he thought he won or lost was annoying and honestly rather boring now, so instead they joined the rest of those in attendance and caught up on recent events.
Remus and Tonks, Harry found out, were away on vacation with their young son; they had made it a point, however, to prove before they left they could cast corporeal Patroni and were planning to send in absentee ballots. Harry hadn't talked with Remus in any meaningful sense since before he'd left for Stanford, and he missed their quiet, introspective discussions. Perhaps sometime in the near future, when Remus returned from his vacation, Harry would seek him out and get to know the older man once again. After all, Remus was the last of the Marauders, and Harry was sure he would love to see the portraits at the Manor.
But that was neither here nor there, and the general drift of the conversation soon turned toward Hogwarts, with Minerva and Neville leading the discussion and fielding several questions by those who had become unfamiliar with the school since graduating. Enrollment was up, curriculums were improving, and the house rivalry had been reduced to healthy competition, rather than blood and class rivalry.
"Oh, Harry," Neville said, apparently suddenly remembering something. "I proofread the most recent edition of Hogwarts, A History, and you now have an entire chapter to yourself."
"Wonderful," Harry articulated, dryly. Hermione, who had her arm around his waist, gave him a comforting squeeze. He knew she couldn't wait to get her hands on the new edition, though. He gave her a sidelong, knowing glance. She just smiled innocently.
"Yes, I thought you might say something like that," Neville continued. "The chapter is called The Harry Potter Era: War and Salvation, 1991 - 1998. They gave the preceding chapter a new title as well: The Modern Era: Albus Dumbledore and Thomas Riddle, 1945 - 1991."
"I hope you five are at least mentioned in the newest chapter," Harry said, referring to the five others who had stood by his side at the very end. Neville nodded.
"We are, as is everyone here, actually. The last two chapters are more of a brief history of the Wizarding world, rather than just Hogwarts."
"Do not forget, Neville, that Hogwarts holds an intrinsic place within the fabric of Wizarding history, especially since Dumbledore took over as Headmaster. He, more than anyone else, worked to unite the disparate reaches of our society," McGonagall chimed in, making Harry think of all the various lectures she gave them at Hogwarts.
"I think we all know that, and appreciate it," Harry said, quietly, looking around at everyone. Perhaps some of them were thinking how wrong it was that Dumbledore wasn't here to see his protege most likely step forward and assume major responsibility in the world. Harry certainly felt the weight of the former Headmaster's legacy, as well as the monumental expectations that had been placed upon his shoulders by Dumbledore and, by proxy, those who had known the man.
The rather somber silence was broken by laughter coming from the direction of the kitchen, and soon after John and Erin walked into the room. They were holding hands and smiling about something.
"Hey all, sorry we're late, but we got hung up at work. Some of the goblins were throwing a party in hopes of Harry and Arthur winning the election, so we stayed and mingled a bit. Who knew the goblins could have a bit of fun?" John asked, rhetorically.
"We all knew you two could have a bit of fun, at least," Harry put in, prompting some banter between him and John. The mood eased up a bit with their effortless camaraderie, and time passed as the evening wore on toward night. Someone was always within hearing distance of the Wireless for when the results of the election were announced, but Harry was trying to keep his mind occupied, lest he dwell any more than he already was on the outcome. The large group of his closest friends provided comfort and distraction enough, so when Ginny suddenly announced around 8:15 that the results were coming up, Harry couldn't believe how quickly the time had passed.
They all crowded around the Wireless set to listen to what could, according to Arthur, make or break of the future of the Wizarding world. Harry doubted many of the others understood the implications as well as Arthur, or even wanted to think about them, so these results meant many different things for different people. For John and Erin, celebration would ensue because they supported Harry and wanted to see him succeed. Harry had told them one reason for their inclusion in the magical world-the betterment of relations between magical people and Muggles and between goblins and humans-but they had not yet been a part of the world long enough to completely understand. For Arthur, it meant the eventual survival or destruction of the world. For Harry, it meant some definite direction in his life and also the ability to fulfill the legacy of his mentor.
Hermione squeezed in next to Harry and gripped his hand. He looked into her eyes for a moment, seeing nothing but love and support, and leaned in for a quick kiss.
"Good luck," she whispered.
"Thanks," he whispered back, and they held onto each other.
"Good evening, witches and wizards across Britain," a voice emanating from the Wireless began. "Tonight is an historic night for us, because of how close the election for the new Minister and Vice Minister was. Separated by only two percent of the votes, the winners and runners-up garnered forty-eight and forty-six percent of the votes, respectively."
Harry felt the tension increase in the room. He looked toward Arthur and locked gazes with the older man. Rather than speak now, Harry Legilimenced a simple thought to Arthur: whatever happens, it has been a pleasure running with you.
Arthur's eyes widened momentarily, probably a bit stunned by hearing Harry's voice in his head, but nodded soon thereafter. He mouthed `likewise' to Harry.
"So without further ado," the voice continued, "the votes are counted and the results are in: your new Minister is Arthur Weasley"-many gasps and cheers all around, and Harry's chest started to swell-"and your new Vice Minister is none other than Harry Potter." And then Harry was temporarily deafened as the cheers broke out in earnest around him. He would only preserve snapshots of the next ten minutes in his memory, because of how loud and celebratory they were; two things that stood in his mind were Molly's tears of joy and Hermione's intense, prolonged embrace, during which she whispered words of congratulations and support in his ear.
Harry was the new Vice Minister. He was second-in-command of the Wizarding government. While he didn't formally take office until December 1st, he had been elected. What would that mean? What would he accomplish as a high-ranking member of the government? Only the future would tell, and for the rest of that night he enjoyed the prospect of embracing the unknown with high expectations.
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Monday, November 11th, 2002; 8:58 am
"Thank you all for being here an hour earlier than we normally meet," Ragnok addressed everyone in the room. Harry glanced around, and saw that the Board was only missing one of its members, who would likely meander in within five or ten minutes. The goblin in question, Kregg, was notoriously late for everything. John and Erin flanked Harry, which was highly unusual because only Board members attended Board meetings, but several of the issues to be discussed involved the two Muggles. Ragnok had asked Harry the previous night through owl post if he would bring them.
"I would have liked to begin at ten o'clock, as usual, but our newest member has another engagement at 10:15, and one that bodes extremely well for the future of Gringotts and wizard-goblin relations," Ragnok continued, looking at Harry with his beady eyes. Harry inclined his head, acknowledging what Ragnok was referencing: at 10:15, Harry had to stand before the Wizengamot with Arthur to be provisionally sworn into office. As the Minister- and Vice Minister-elect, the two men were of course expected to attend, unless some unforeseen emergency made that impossible.
Harry could still hardly believe that he had actually been elected, but it had slowly started to sink in over the weekend; perhaps when he swore to uphold and fulfill the expectations of office, it would become more real, but for now it still seemed like fantasy.
"Along those same lines, I would like to formally congratulate Director Potter on his election to the office of Vice Minister." Ragnok looked directly at him once again. "Well done." There was some light clapping, and even a few cheers-or noises that might have passed as cheers-and Harry received it all with a smile. He was glad the goblins had supported him, and he hoped he didn't let them down.
"Now, to get started," Ragnok said, switching gears and rifling through some papers, "we need to discuss our plans for envoys to the Continent-"
Ragnok cut himself off and looked toward the side of the room, where a door had just swung open. Sure enough, Kregg entered and walked over to the table, taking his customary seat. Ragnok and Kregg stared at each other; Harry wondered why Ragnok let the other goblin treat the Board with such disrespect, especially considering how much esteem Ragnok actually commanded among goblins.
"Nice of you to finally join us." Kregg said nothing. "If you will direct your attention this way," Ragnok indicated, pointing his arm toward Harry, "our Muggle friends are joining us today so we can discuss some matters in which they are involved."
"Good morning," Kregg croaked. His voice sounded like a bullfrog. Then he resumed staring straight ahead. Harry thought his behavior was very strange. Ragnok looked at the goblin for another few seconds, shook his head slightly, and then turned back to his papers.
"Alright, the envoys," he said, jumping back into what he was saying. "Our next one is scheduled for just after the New Year, to Rome. We are supposed to be meeting with the magical leaders of Italy to discuss future plans for Mediterranean branches of Gringotts." He looked at Harry, who had been listening to all of this silently. "Director Potter, if you are available on the second through the fourth of January, I would much appreciate it if you could go. We have no presence in Southern Europe, so I do not know how well- or ill-received our actual presence will be on Italian soil."
Rome? Harry had never been, but he couldn't think of a reason why he would be unable to accommodate Ragnok's wishes. "As long as I'm available, I would love to go and meet with the Italian government. It probably also is a good opportunity to speak with them about my other position," Harry said, earning a smile from the Director.
"Assuming Rome goes well, we have other trips planned for Madrid, Valencia, Marseille, Naples, Palermo, and Athens. Though no dates have been determined yet, I would like for you to go on as many of these trips as possible."
Harry nodded. It looked he was going to become a world traveler. His long-distance Apparition skill was going to come in handy.
"But for now, I need three volunteers to accompany Director Potter to Rome, so we have four Directors present for the meetings. Who would like to go?"
Ragnok looked around the room. All was silent; Harry looked to John and then Erin with an arched eyebrow, expressing his dubiousness at having no goblins immediately volunteer for the trip. After several moments, two goblins sitting next to each other raised their clawed hands. They made eye contact with Harry, and he quirked his lips into a small smile, thanking them.
"Thank you, Directors Hillmook and Nebnar. I need one more-I would go myself, but the new Hogsmeade branch is scheduled to open on the third of January, and I have to be present for the ribbon cutting ceremony and grand opening."
The goblin that had come late, Kregg, then raised his hand. Ragnok and the other goblins seemed surprised, for some reason, at this development. Kregg merely stared at Ragnok with his hand in the air.
"Then you will be the fourth Director, Kregg," Ragnok said, after recovering. "So Directors Potter, Nebnar, Kregg, and Hillmook will be heading to Rome, hopefully opening up more business throughout the Mediterranean. Like I said, if all goes well, more trips are planned. So be ready for those in the future.
"Now I'd like to turn the floor over to Erin Lowell, one of our security engineers and someone with whom all of you are most likely familiar. She will be detailing us on recent improvements to overall security, as well as future improvements we have planned and what our security teams have lined up for the Hogsmeade branch."
Harry heard her take a deep breath and she slowly rose from her seat. He looked up at her and smiled, lending her some support in this toughest of crowds. John, on his right side, was beaming at her.
"Thank you, Director. May your vault be well-guarded," she started. Ragnok grinned at her. "As he said, we have been working on some improvements in security-"
"Improvements?" cut in a goblin, staring at Erin and then looking to Ragnok. "Since when have we needed help with guarding our secrets?" An awkward silence passed then; the goblin that spoke was Yart, long known for his antipathy toward humans and especially those that intruded upon Gringotts business. He had been one of the only dissenting opinions as far as Harry joining the Board was concerned.
"Yes-Director Yart, is it?-improvements are in order-"
"My question was directed toward Director Ragnok," Yart cut in again, glaring at her and then once again looking at Ragnok. The Director was staring down at the polished table, tapping his claws against the hard surface in a rhythmic manner. The room was filled with clickclickclickclick… clickclickclickclick… clickclickclickclick… Harry could tell that Ragnok was frustrated. Other board meetings had had similar interruptions and awkwardness because of Harry's presence, but all that had faded through the fall; it seemed that the presence of two Muggles in the Gringotts boardroom was still too much for Yart, though. The few other goblin Board members known to have more conservative leanings stayed quiet.
"Would you continually interrupt me if I was giving this status update?" Ragnok asked, in a low voice, still staring at the table. Harry had never seen the goblin leader truly angry, but there seemed to be some genuine anger seething beneath his words and controlled demeanor.
"Of course not, Director," Yart responded, not sounding chagrined at all.
"Then you would do well to show Miss Lowell the same courtesy and respect you would show any of us."
"Be that as it may," Yart said, plowing forward, obviously unaware of Ragnok's concealed frustration, or not caring, "why do we need to improve our security? I could count the number of times we've had breaches on one hand."
And then Ragnok glanced up, but it was not at Yart; instead, he glanced toward Harry, who was astounded to see the rage and anguish obviously apparent in Ragnok's eyes. If Harry were pressed, he would say that Ragnok wanted to kill Yart just then.
So Harry took the bull by the horns, so to speak, and quickly stood from his chair. He made quick eye contact with Erin, and by the time he looked back to Ragnok, the goblin had resumed staring at the table. The focus of the room zeroed in on him.
"Why shouldn't we work to improve security?" Harry stared at Yart, hoping he wasn't overstepping any boundaries, now that he had Ragnok's tacit approval. "Yart, could you explain to me why you think we shouldn't continually strive to better ourselves?"
Yart looked supremely surprised, almost comically so. He spluttered for a moment. "This-this is an outrage-how dare you-"
"No, Yart," Harry said, cutting the goblin off, and then holding his breath for half a second to see if there would be any retaliation. Surprise still seemed to override any anger or aggression, however. "What's outrageous is your inability to separate yourself from the past. Director Ragnok brought me onto this Board-and I brought Mr. Sanders and Miss Lowell into Gringotts-to work against exactly the type of conservative, bigoted policies you support.
"I don't understand how you can resist change so much, because, as far as I can tell, your past consists of persecution, estrangement, and belittlement. Goblins for many centuries now have been treated like refuse, so I'm wondering why you want things to stay like this? I know you are questioning the need for new security, but what you're really asking is why the three of us"-Harry indicated John, Erin, and himself with a sweep of his hand-"are here in the first place. Am I wrong?"
Nothing but shocked silence came from Yart, who was staring open-mouthed. Harry looked around the room quickly, and saw all eyes riveted upon him; even Ragnok was looking at him now. Kregg had an enigmatic smile on his face. The rest of the goblins were quite impassive.
"I'll take your silence as a confirmation," Harry said, placing his palms flat on the table and leaning forward. He was looking at and speaking directly to Yart now. "I was elected Vice Minister on a platform of equality, but for that to happen-for you to reap the benefits of what we all may sow in the future-you have to want that equality. I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself; someday I would love to see goblins and humans mingling with unbiased feelings toward each other, but that will not and cannot happen unless both sides are willing to take a long, hard look in the mirror.
"We wizards need to address what we've done in the past to suppress other magical species and bend them to our will, and other species, such as goblins, need to be willing to work with us and move forward with a positive attitude, instead of this bloody negative, close-minded mentality. Now, if you have no further objections, I will let Erin continue with her report."
Harry raised his eyebrows at Yart, staring hard at the goblin, having been completely swept up in the moment and not realizing that every single living being in the room could feel the pulse of his magic in time with beat of his heart, and that rather than fear they were experiencing awe. The two exceptions were Ragnok, who looked calmly and approving at Harry, and Yart, who was simply dumbfounded. Harry nodded, more to himself, and sat down.
In the ensuing silence, John leaned into his side. "That was something, Harry," he whispered. "I think I could actually feel your magic…"
Harry briefly closed his eyes. He'd forgotten about that little aspect of his core-whenever he was excited or passionate about something, his magic would bleed into the atmosphere. It must have been particularly strong this time if John, a Muggle, could felt it as well.
"It happens sometimes," Harry whispered back, leaning back in his chair a bit and motioning for silence, because Erin had just taken a deep breath. She'd been carefully avoiding eye contact with Harry since he'd stopped talking.
"…thank you. As I was saying, we have recently made several improvements to existing security. Pilk would normally be giving you these updates, but he's in Hogsmeade today overseeing the placement of some rather…sensitive…safety measures, so here I am. First and foremost, the vaults of the oldest magical families, and those containing rare and precious gems, have been retrofitted with a new blood ward, designed to paralyze the intruder in a kind of stasis-like condition. Senior security officers and all security engineers now carry one of these," she said, holding up what looked a small, ornate wristwatch. "It's designed to alert us if the new wards are triggered, so that we can take immediate action."
She paused here for a second, and looked to Harry. He was listening with rapt attention, since this was new information to him. The old blood wards had just trapped the thief in the vault until they starved or someone opened it and found him or her.
"We have started moving away from lethal measures, unless absolutely necessary; in the next few months and years, we would like to head toward protocols involving detainment and prosecution, rather than death or injury. Pilk and I have been discussing this extensively, and while most of the old security measures were certainly effective, they appeared brutish and unreasonable to many humans. I am not condemning those practices, but in a world supposedly moving toward tolerance, summarily executing thieves is not the best way to go.
"We can show our commitment to justice by actively pursuing charges in either a goblin tribunal or a Wizarding court, and we can show our rationality and temperament by preserving life wherever possible."
Harry nodded to himself as he listened to the explanation, because it made much sense to him. If the goblins wanted equal rights in the Wizarding world, appearing more humane and tolerant to their human counterparts would be one large step on the long road to equality. Erin, Pilk, and the rest of the security team were showing remarkable foresight with these changes. He would have to tell her he was impressed with her work.
When no one said anything, Erin continued: "There are other significant changes in the pipeline, but none of them are ready to be rolled out yet, so suffice it to say your security teams are hard at work protecting both current and future investments.
"Now I would like to speak briefly about the new Hogsmeade branch, and then return the floor to Director Ragnok," she said, and collected her thoughts for a moment. "There will be a limited number of vaults there, because we wanted to focus mostly on expanding membership and enlightening a disconnected public with the services Gringotts offers. The branch will be fully equipped with normal financial services, but if someone wants to deposit large amounts of money or material possessions, they will still need to come to this central branch to acquire a vault.
"The few vaults there are at Hogsmeade are for Hogwarts-the castle, the staff, and the students. Pilk has told me Hogwarts contains unknown, but most likely staggering, amounts of priceless artifacts, and the student body has grown such that more space is needed. So not only will the vaults contain these artifacts, after they've been itemized and appraised, but also the rarer and less-used books from the world famous Hogwarts library."
Harry knew this was rehearsed information, because Erin had never actually been to Hogwarts. It was slightly odd to think the school was farming out its storage to Gringotts, and almost bittersweet that it would be losing things that had been a part of it for over a millennium. He knew it was necessary, and it was a big step for the relations between humans and goblins; if Hogwarts, the premier magical school in the world, was ready to entrust the goblins with pieces of its truly priceless heritage, then others might follow suit. He imagined that the Hogsmeade branch might become a museum of sorts.
"The students and staff have also been informed of a few vaults-no more than five-where they can store belongings for the summer. It is a service we will provide them for a nominal fee, which will help revenue during the slow summer months when Hogsmeade consists of only the local population.
"Anyways, because there will be a reduced number of vaults, security at Hogsmeade will focus less on external threats and more on internal function. We've been working on automated systems for exchanging pounds to galleons and vice-versa, as well as providing tellers with galleons for withdrawals. Are there any questions?"
She looked around the room, but there were none. "Ok then, thank you for listening, and if you have any questions in the future you can ask any security personnel you find. Director?" Erin sat down and Harry felt her sigh of relief. He thought she had done an incredible job recapturing her poise after Yart's little interruption.
Ragnok stood once again. "Thank you, Miss Lowell. You have provided us with much-needed insight. Now, if we can all shift gears slightly, we need to discuss more clandestine matters…" Ragnok started, and the Board meeting proceeded from there. John spoke briefly about the trends of the global rates of exchange, explaining why the galleon had lost slight ground to the pound in recent months. It had been around a five-to-one ratio for a very long time, but recently the rate had slipped to 4.65:1. John told them all that the pound was one of the strongest Muggle currencies in the world at the moment, so losing against it was understandable and would most likely continue, albeit at a very slow rate, for quite some time.
The discussion of savings and loan rates, the new rules for the calculation of equity, and a passing mention of the recent accounting woes for many large corporations-mostly American-reminded Harry strongly of the types of conversations he'd had in his business classes, and he was attentive for the entire meeting. Though he would never want to be a financial officer, money matters intrigued him, and he felt good about his decision to join Gringotts' Board of Directors. He was certainly a mouthpiece and an instrument of change, but he also got to see the backend of a large financial institution.
When the meeting ended shortly after ten o'clock, several goblins including Yart left immediately, obviously still sore about the unexpected tongue-lashing their human counterpart had given them. Harry hoped the repercussions would not be too serious, and that he hadn't done any permanent damage to relations, but what he'd said had all been relevant and necessary. Some goblins-and some humans, of course-needed a wake-up call, and Harry was happy to provide them with one.
"Fabulous job, Erin," Harry said, congratulating her as John moved to her side. The three of them stood in a small circle for a moment.
"Thanks for what you said too, Harry," she said. "I wasn't sure what was going to happen, but you seemed to have Yart under control."
"Yes, quite the show, Potter," John said, grinning at him.
"Glad you enjoyed it," Harry replied, sarcasm coloring his voice.
"Harry?" another voiced asked, and John and Erin moved apart to reveal Ragnok standing behind them. They looked at each other.
"We're going to get to work," Erin said. "Good luck with the ceremony. See you later!"
"Thanks, you two. Have a good day," Harry told them, and they turned to go, leaving Harry alone with Ragnok. Most of the other Board members had left by now.
"Ragnok, if I was out of line-"
"Not at all, Harry," the elder goblin said, overriding what was going to be his apology. "In fact, you saved John and Erin from witnessing something that potentially could have been very ugly."
"What do you mean?"
"Sparing you the specifics, conflict has been brewing between Yart and I for some time. We have been largely unsuccessful in resolving our issues. The only way these types of things end in the goblin nation is through mortal combat. I have no doubt in my mind that I will crush Yart, because he is rather weak and unskilled with a weapon, but I don't want to kill him. I just wish he wasn't so close-minded and obstinate."
Harry thought he had seen murderous intent in Ragnok's eyes, and understood that the goblin had allowed Harry to speak in order to avoid that eventuality.
"I'm glad I could help, then."
"You have, and you are, and I'm sure you will continue to for many years. But now I think it is time for you to be sworn in, so I will not keep you any longer. Thank you, Harry."
"You're welcome. See you soon?"
"Of course," Ragnok said, nodding. Harry shook his hand and then Disapparated from Gringotts, appearing inside the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, near the statue of the Trio. Arthur was leaning against one of their legs, waiting for him. When the older man saw Harry, he smiled and moved toward him.
"Good morning, Harry. Did the Board meeting go well?"
Harry chuckled briefly. "Well enough. Now, are you ready for this?"
Arthur nodded. "Yes, of course. But are you?" he wondered, looking closely at Harry, who met his eyes. "I know the Wizengamot's chambers represent a bad moment in your history…"
Harry pursed his lips. "I don't think I'll ever feel completely comfortable in that room," Harry said, as they moved toward the lifts. The room they spoke of was of course the same one Fudge had moved his trial to before his fifth year of school. "But we will be dealing extensively with the Wizengamot, so I will have to put it in the back of my mind for now."
"Those trumped up charges were utter rubbish," Arthur commented. They were now in the lift and descending toward the ninth level. "Fudge should have been sacked then and there."
"Long before that, actually," Harry grumbled, thinking of the Ministry's complete and utter ineptitude during all of his years at Hogwarts. Scrimgeour had not been an improvement, instead just another version of a bureaucratic stooge.
Harry turned his head toward Arthur and smiled. "Let's hope you do a better job than Fudge, eh old man?"
Rather than take the bait, Arthur gave Harry a serene look. "Let's hope."
The lift rattled to a halt and then the doors opened; they exited into the ninth level and turned towards the convening chambers of the Wizengamot. They were en route to being provisionally sworn in as the chief executive officer and second-in-command of the government, and although it was a private, closed-door affair, Harry had half-expected there to be some people present. The level was deserted, though.
As he listened to the echoes of their footsteps, he decided he would take a stroll through Diagon after the ceremony. It had been quite some time since he'd simply immersed himself in Wizarding culture, so a few hours of mingling with the people would be a fun and welcome change. Later on in the afternoon he'd stop by Hermione's office (the possibility of an afternoon delight was not lost on him) and tell her about his day, especially how the board meeting had turned out. He was already more energized, just by thinking of Hermione and how her face would light up when he walked through her door. Merlin, he loved her.
"Here we are," Arthur said. They looked at each other for a second. "The start of something extraordinary?" he asked Harry, holding out his hand. Harry took it and shook it.
"Yes, I believe so," he answered, and they passed into the chamber. The entire Wizengamot had convened for this ceremony, so there were robed Wizards filling about half of the seats. There was a smattering of applause and possibly some boos when they walked in, but as Arthur and Harry approached the lectern on the dais, the Wizengamot quieted down. Amos sat to one side of the lectern, and another Wizengamot member sat to other side.
Harry knew the lectern was for the Chief Warlock, and that the position remained conspicuously vacant; it had remained so, in fact, since Albus died. Harry remembered Neville saying something about Amos acting as the interim Chief Warlock for certain things, but this apparently was not one of them. It was an oddly melancholic sight, to so explicitly see one of the many manifestations of Albus' absence. Harry would have swelled with pride had Albus overseen this ceremony, because he would have been fulfilling the Headmaster's lofty expectations. And as much as Harry disagreed with Albus over certain things, the old man had always had the best interest of the world at heart. Arthur's description of his final conversation with Albus had stuck with Harry, and some part deep within him wanted to move forward with the Headmaster's legacy on his shoulders, carrying it far into the future.
Amos and other Wizengamot members stood. "Good morning, Arthur and Harry. This will not take very long. Both of you need to come up here and go through the motions," Amos explained, pointing to the lectern.
Harry followed Arthur up the short staircase onto the dais and to the lectern. He knew this was mostly a formality, and that the actual swearing-in would take place at the beginning of the next month, but there was a certain sense of gravitas about the whole thing. This was the first public acknowledgement-even though only Wizengamot members were present-of his position as the new Vice Minister. Perhaps sensing Harry's slight reluctance, Arthur moved to stand behind the lectern.
He looked around the large chamber, and then took a deep breath: "Members of the Wizengamot, convened here this day the eleventh of November two thousand two, I, Arthur Weasley, formally acknowledge my position as the Minister-elect, to be sworn in with due accordance to all procedures and policies the first of December two thousand two. I promise to uphold, preserve, and fulfill every aspect of the office of Minister of Magic, with no reservations and no intent to ever defame the office of Minister of Magic, the Ministry of Magic, or the Wizarding public. Thank you," Arthur finished.
As one, the Wizengamot said, "Understood, Arthur Weasley. Your oath here the eleventh of November two thousand two is accepted."
Arthur nodded to them all and stepped back. Harry moved forward and braced himself against the podium. He wondered how many times Albus had addressed the Wizengamot from this very position? He could almost feel the essence of his mentor as he stood there, looking out at the crowd. Whoever the next Chief Warlock was, he or she surely had an impossible legacy to follow.
"Members of the Wizengamot, convened here this day the eleventh of November two thousand two, I, Harry Potter, formally acknowledge my position as the Vice Minister-elect, to be sworn in with due accordance to all procedures and policies the first of December two thousand two. I promise to uphold, preserve, and fulfill every aspect of the office of Vice Minister of Magic, with no reservations and no intent to ever defame the office of Vice Minister of Magic, the Ministry of Magic, or the Wizarding public. Thank you."
The Wizengamot responded to Harry: "Understood, Harry Potter. Your oath here the eleventh of November two thousand two is accepted."
Harry stepped back from the lectern, glad to vacate the position. Some memories were still too recent and some scars ran too deep to ever heal; he saw in his head Albus Dumbledore sitting at the far side of the chamber, smiling and twinkling up at him at the podium. Perhaps he would have to have an extended talk with the portrait sometime, if only to put his that particular internal ghost to rest.
---------
Sometime after lunch, Harry was wrapping up his casual tour of Diagon Alley when he happened upon the jewelry shop tucked into a corner near Gringotts. He wanted to see Hermione, and that desire gave him an idea-one that sent his heart rate skyrocketing-so he wandered into the shop.
His time in the Alley that afternoon had been checkered with conversations with witches and wizards, and most supported him and Arthur. Only a few had been openly negative toward his position as Vice Minister elect. Overall, he was happy with their support; he would never have universal support, in fact no one ever could, and as long as his presence wasn't divisive enough to stall governmental processes, he could manage. Arthur was well-liked and respected by even those who opposed his point of view, which went a long way toward mollifying Harry's anxieties.
"Oh, Vice Minister Potter! Can I help you?" a stout woman asked, coming around the counter. He smiled at her.
"Just Harry is fine, Miss…?"
She blushed. "Fairweather. Roberta Fairweather, at your service."
"Thank you, Roberta. I think you can help me, actually. I'm sure you understand the need for discretion-"
"Say no more, Harry!" she cut in, holding a hand over heart. "I wouldn't dream of breaking your trust, whatever reason you're here."
He had to suppress the smile that threatened his lips at her enthusiasm. "Ok, thank you. I'm interested in an engagement ring for someone very special," he said, getting the words out all in a rush. Merlin, his heart was pounding!
Suddenly a genuine and appreciative smile crossed Roberta's face, and it made her look twenty years younger. "I understand, Harry. I'm so happy for you-our engagement rings are over here," she responded, directing him to a case with countless rings, all of which were extraordinarily beautiful.
After much deliberation and discussion with Roberta, who turned out to be incredibly knowledgeable and useful, Harry settled on an elegant white gold band with three flawless, colorless diamonds. They were each 1.25 carats. If Harry had understood more about the way diamonds were rated, he would have known how precious his purchase was, but it was precious enough because it represented his lasting love for Hermione and his determination to spend his life with her. He paid an incredible twelve thousand galleons (55,800 pounds) for the ring.
Riding the wave of euphoria the engagement ring brought, coupled with the fact that he would be seeing Hermione very soon, he exited the jewelry shop into the Alley without a care in the world. The sun was high in the sky and very bright, though it was cold, so he paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust.
"Avada Kedavra!"
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